Muse
by green-jedi
Summary: Why does Tahno cheat when he doesn't have to? Why does Asami love pro-bending so much? Tahno's pro-bending career from start... to finish. Asami grows up. Three years before LOK to end of Season 1. AU.
1. Tahno's Last Three Years

_**Now (one month after the Equalist terrorist attack on Republic City)**_

_**.**_

They were playing one of his old matches on the radio because there were no more live games.

He tried not to listen too avidly, but really, he couldn't help but be pleased by his performance. There was such an art to it, and he missed that the most. Playing the audience as much as he played the opposing team.

The audience was everything.

Even more than the outcome of the game itself was what they gave the audience.

They didn't_ have_ to cheat, but they did.

Because the audience _loved_ it.

.

_**Three years ago**_

_**.**_

He threw his helmet so hard against the locker room wall he cracked his face shield.

Then he swore _viciously_ because now he had to pay to replace it.

_TAP. tap. tap._

"Great," he snarled, because, you know he _really_ needed another reporter tearing apart his last play. He fixed his hair and affected a casual air before swinging the door open into the dark locker room.

A woman stood there wearing a badly wrinkled version of one of those little felt hats that were becoming popular, and backlit so that he couldn't make out her features.

But _man_, he could sure make out her _shape_.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered nervously, looking over her shoulder behind her while his eyes traversed her up and down. "I-I just wanted to... Look, don't listen to them. You're _amazing_. You're going to win the championships..." She stated this like it was a fact.

He scoffed, cutting in and looking down his nose at her.

Her posture looked slightly taken aback, as though rudeness were a thing wholly unfamiliar to her.

"Listen, buster," she said, pointing a slim digit into his chest so quickly _he_ was taken aback, "I've been watching pro-bending matches my whole life. I know talent when I see it. That was a textbook perfect play you threw at them, but the Tigerdillos get sloppy when they get annoyed and they stop thinking with their heads and start thinking with their fists..."

"I _know_," Tahno sighed in boredom, cutting in again. He rolled his eyes up towards the flickering light behind her and puffed his bangs out of his eyes.

_That's_ why he was so pissed off at himself. He should have anticipated their play better. He was too slow to think it through properly, and with Ming and Shaozu in the drink, he'd had to carry the team himself.

And La knew, he was _not_ cool under fire.

So they lost the match.

"Listen," he drawled sarcastically, tipping his head to the side and smirking at her, "you're _such_ a sweetheart to come here and tell me how to play, I'll be sure to win the championships _just for you_, okay?"

He turned to go back into his dark, empty locker room, but a quick hand on his shoulder stopped him.

She stood on her toes and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek.

"You will," she whispered firmly into his ear, then she darted down the hall, the quick staccato of her boots clicking on the tile floor.

"I'd wish you luck," she called back to him, "but you don't need it!"

He couldn't help raising his eyebrow slightly.

She was right, of course.

That was the first year they won the championships.

It wasn't until the morning after, still recovering from a blistering hangover in a very nice hotel, that it occurred to him to make sure that one of the pretty girls he'd woken up tangled with hadn't walked off with his wallet.

He reached deep into his pants pocket and breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the familiar leather. Then he frowned as he felt something else. He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it.

"Told you?" he murmured, reading the words in confusion. He flipped the paper over to see if there was a signature, or some other indication of who had written it, but there was nothing except the small, neat words written in capital letters. The paper felt expensive, and he brought it up closer to see if there was a watermark, but a slight scent tickled his memory instead and he followed it back to an unexpected kiss on the cheek from a mystery woman.

He smiled wryly.

.

_**Now**_

_**.**_

He scratched his thumb along the edge of the pristine white plate to remove the miniscule speck that remained before he let it drift back below the soapy water.

He knew it would be like this eventually.

Fade away or...

Really, he and the Wolfbats could have only been so lucky to go out with such a spectacular bang right at the top.

Live fast, die young, he supposed.

Well.

He only felt dead.

...

He sighed and ran a sudsy hand through his hair, pushing his long, dark bangs out of his face before finishing up the dishes.

Tahno actually wasn't a naturally vain person. Naturally elegant, yes, naturally vain, no. It was a Deep Waters clan thing. Everyone in his family had it. Except his grandmother.

But the infamous Baby Fury, had understood how to work a crowd and the importance of precision of movement, and her manners were good enough, when she needed them, so...

So...

.

**_Two years, eleven months ago._**

**_._**

_TAP. tap. tap._

Tahno froze, halfway through changing out of his uniform. He sat up with a smirk and straightened his white undershirt and hair before opening the door to his locker room.

"Hello, Sweetheart," he drawled, crossing his arms and casually leaning against the doorframe, "come to give me a proper kiss this time?"

She laughed.

Beautifully, Tahno noted.

(He was slightly disconcerted by how much he liked it.)

"You won," she said smugly.

A grin quirked at the corner of his mouth. He looked down at his hands to try to hide said grin behind his long bangs.

"Yeah," he drawled, "I seem to remember you telling me we would."

"Did you get my message?" she asked with a grin.

He couldn't actually see her grin, but he could hear it.

"Did you get mine?" he smirked.

He'd dedicated his win to her during his post-game interview with Shiro Shinobi.

_"That was for you, Sweetheart,"_ really could have been anyone, which was kind of the point (it paid to encourage his fans, after all), but he sort of hoped she'd get it anyway.

"I did," she breathed quietly.

"I got yours too," he said quietly, wanting to tuck his hands into pockets his uniform didn't have.

She cocked her head to the side, and Tahno could see from the outline of her cheek that she was smiling widely.

"You're up against the Eel Hounds next," she said, tipping her hip a little.

Tahno's eyes flicked down, and then back up to her face still hidden in the shadows of that awful hat.

"Yep," he said with a pop.

"They're tough," she said.

He shrugged.

"Give me a proper kiss and I'll win it for you," he said with a smirk.

She laughed again.

"Hmm," she said deep in her throat, and Tahno's arm hairs stood up at the sound. "How many times have you used that line?"

Tahno swallowed and gave her a little smile, digging his toe into a scuff on the tile.

"Once."

She didn't ask if he was lying.

She just stepped up to him, quick as before, and pressed her soft, soft lips to his and gave him the sweetest kiss of his life. A small sound escaped him and before he could move to get his arms around her, she turned and stepped quickly away, almost running down the hall. She pressed her cool hands (he knew they were cool because she'd actually slipped them into his as she kissed him) to her cheeks as she disappeared around the corner.

His match against the Eel Hounds was the first hat trick of his career.

.

_**Now**_

.

He very deliberately finished his few dishes and put them away methodically before drying his hands with the towel (he was still getting the hang of not thinking about how to do it), and sat down with a drink on his wide couch. He crossed his ankles on the fine, antique wooden chest that served as a low table.

He'd be lying to himself if he didn't also acknowledge that he missed his muse.

She'd disappeared a few weeks before the Wolfbats fell, and he hadn't seen her since.

It _irritated_ him that he missed her.

(That he didn't know what happened to her.)

That it was something he couldn't smooth away through force of will alone.

.

_**Two years, nine months ago**_

.

"What's your name?" he asked breathlessly against her mouth as he pinned her up against the wall of his dark locker room.

He ran his hands along her legs wrapped around his waist and wished desperately that he wasn't wearing his uniform and she wasn't wearing... whatever she was wearing.

"I-I can't," she gasped as he slid his hot mouth along her pulse and ground his pelvis into hers.

"Please, Sweetheart," he pleaded, holding the sides of her face, trying desperately to make out her features in the darkness.

"No," she said firmly.

He stopped, breathing heavily, and held her there for a moment.

(He noted with no small satisfaction that she was just as affected.)

"Why?" he asked, swallowing hard. "Are you married?"

She laughed so hard, it worried him.

Cold anxiety slithered through his stomach as another thought occurred to him.

"How old are you?" he asked suspiciously, stepping away suddenly.

That made her laugh harder.

"Oh, _fuck_," he swore, recoiling nervously away from her.

"N-no, I-I'm old enough," she gasped between spasms of hilarity.

He scowled and crossed his arms, facing away from her, relief and irritation coiling through him uncomfortably. He heard the heels of her boots click on the tile floor as she came up behind him.

"My... guardian... is very protective of me," she said, amusement tingeing her voice. "He doesn't like how much I hang around the arena as it is. If he found out I was here, with you, there would be consequences... for both of us. It's safer for you this way."

He shot her a narrow glare in the dark.

"What kind of consequences?" he muttered warily.

...

"He could probably end your career," she said quietly.

...

"Ah."

Fabulous.

He gave a short sigh.

Well, he did like to live dangerously. He had a broken eye socket from an angry husband to prove it.

He heard her disappointed sigh as she assumed the worst, and her heels begin to click away from him.

"Where you going, Sweetheart?" he drawled with a grin.

After all, rumor had it that the moon spirit Yue went off to be with her secret lover when her face was hidden too.

.

_**Now**_

.

He sipped his drink and looked out into the foggy night, trying very hard to conquer the seasickness that still gripped him even a month after his bending had been taken from him.

His yacht rolled gently in the night and he deliberately ignored the moon. He couldn't take looking at her.

Small steps.

He was, after all, learning to live again.

La, however, was more insistent, and wouldn't be ignored. He could still feel the flow of the tides under his skin.

In his blood.

He sipped his drink again and leaned his head back against the top of the chair, staring up into the starry night through the skylight as he listened to the occasional gentle splash of a wave against the hull and the old match on the radio.

.

_**Two years ago**_

.

They won again, and the angry victory of it swam through his blood like a drug. He scanned the stands desperately trying to pick out her stupid hat, but he couldn't find her, no matter how hard he looked.

He went through his interview with gritted teeth and jumpy knees. Ming and Shaozu handled it much better than him. Especially Shaozu, since he'd gotten a double in the final round. When the interview was over, he strode as quickly as he could to his locker room.

She was waiting for him.

He slammed and locked the door behind him.

His mouth crashed into hers and he pushed her up against the wall, but to his surprise, she quickly pivoted and pushed him back, tearing at the fastenings of his uniform.

"You were _amazing_," she breathed against his mouth.

He could hear the hunger in her voice and he growled in response. He reached up to the hat and gripped the brim, but she flinched and he hesitated.

"You promised," he said in a low voice, trying very, very hard to keep the accusation out of his voice.

"Hat only," she whispered in the darkness.

He flipped it off her head and he heard a soft sound as it landed somewhere across the room. She inhaled sharply at the abruptness of his motion as the few floating strands of hair that clung to the hat settled around her twisted-up hair. He could barely make out the shape of her face in the dark. He swallowed hard.

"You cheated," he said flatly. "I want to see your hair."

"My hair has been like this every single time I've seen you," she said evenly, "you didn't say anything about my hair."

"I said I wanted to see what was under that hat!" he snapped, frustrated.

"What about the rest?" she asked mischievously.

...

"What?" he asked, confused.

Her fingers began undoing the buttons of her shirt slowly.

Deliberately.

"What abou..."

Oh, _yes_.

He swallowed the rest of her words with his urgent mouth and began tearing at the fastenings of her shirt while she returned the favour.

When Ming and Shaozu asked where he was the next morning, he told them he was with his muse.

Then they spread the word that he had a muse...

and he didn't see her for half a year.

Not that he didn't try to find her.

It started out being the worst season they'd had yet until she showed up again halfway through the season saying she couldn't stay away.

Then it ended up being one of the best comebacks in the history of pro-bending.

.

_**Now**_

.

Time was, he would have just thrown his glass against a wall, but now he had to actually clean the mess up.

...

It was quiet, and he let his thoughts drift through the plans he'd been making for his future. That is, until he recognized the faint slow step of her boot heels on the pier. He didn't even realize he knew them until he saw he was unconsciously gripping the glass he was holding so tightly that his knuckles were white.

_Wow_.

He laughed sardonically.

In retaliation against the grip she had on_ him_, he scowled faintly and refused to move.

He tried to breathe as quietly as he could, listening to the slow steps count out the beats of his heart. She stopped suddenly and he held his breath. He felt tense with anticipation, like right before a match.

He actually felt a small bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck and he smirked.

I mean, it wasn't like her pre-game visits had anything to do with that reaction.

At all.

.

_**One year ago.**_

.

"You cheated," she accused, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glaring at him from the back-lit entrance.

He sat on the bench in his locker room, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked down at his at his hands. He'd changed and had been waiting for her.

For hours.

(The sounds of the post-match rioting had only recently died off.)

"Yep," he sighed quietly.

She scoffed in disgust and stormed off.

She sought him out a month into the next season, and he explained things to her.

That it wasn't just about skill. How important it was to work the crowd and bring people in to watch. That a public persona was created and had to be carefully evolved so that fans would continue to follow. That he really only had a couple of more seasons in him before he ended up a battered wreck like Toza, and that it was so much better for business to go out at the top than to fade away off the bottom.

"I-can't watch you cheat like that," she whispered hoarsely, "especially when you're good enough not to."

His heart clenched.

He fingered the necklace he'd been spending the last year choosing for her. It looked like it was quite literally now or never. He pulled it out of his pocket and heard the delicate gold chain zip along the edge of his linen jacket.

"Here," he said, holding it out without looking at her.

She didn't take it.

He swallowed.

"I bought it last year," he drawled.

Not with my dirty money, he didn't add.

She ran her finger over the gold and coral and jade pendant.

"It's not an original," he said bitterly, "so you wont have to worry about me recognizing you or anything. The designer is also popular enough with rich girls like you that nobody should question where you got it."

Her hand froze on the pendant.

She gave a couple of quick, short breaths and turned her head quickly to the side.

He knew her well enough to know that meant she was upset. He heard her swallow, and she put her hand over his and the pendant. He watched the gold chain glint as it swayed slightly in the dark.

He noticed very pointedly how she didn't ask how he knew she was a rich girl.

(Only rich girls could afford that particular brand of perfume.)

She slowly took it from him and turned it over in her hands.

"Thank you," she said quietly, "it's lovely."

He decided not to spook her by telling her what giving a necklace to a girl usually meant to his people. (This one didn't mean that... but still.) He gave a short, humorless laugh instead. He decided to throw a couple more cards on the table since she _was_ leaving. He figured he didn't have much to lose at that point.

"You know," he drawled in a low voice, leaning back on the bench with his hands, "I actually started to think you were from one of the crime families in town. But since _my_ extended family is connected in one way or another to most of them... I figured out that you aren't... so..."

There was a bit of a threat of a there.

Also another invitation to step into the light.

"You hunting me, Wolfbat?" she asked softly with a grin.

"Ever since you showed up, Sweetheart," he said before he knew it.

...

She put the necklace in her pocket.

"Goodbye, Tahno," she whispered.

Then she turned and walked away.

.

_**Now**_

_._

_TAP. tap. tap._

The sound at his door made his breath explode out of him.

He swallowed hard and quickly straightened his clothes and hair, then affected a casual air that he did not feel.

He felt off-balance in more than one way, but he wasn't about to let her see that.

He actually rolled his shoulders to loosen up as he walked the few steps over to the door.

.

_**A few months ago**_

.

He was going crazy.

Ordinarily, he actually enjoyed the opportunity to rub elbows with Republic City's elite.

(Never knew when those contacts might come in handy.)

But _tonight_?

He heard her _everywhere_.

He took another drink of the expensive champagne and smiled invitingly at the two women who had been eyeing him and whispering behind their hands. Encouraged, they smiled excitedly and came over to him. He chatted pleasantly with them, laughing politely at their attempts at flattery and signing what they asked him to after pretending to fumble for a pen. (That he deliberately did not bring, because that looked pretentious.)

He heard her laugh and his head swiveled in the direction he thought the sound originated from.

He politely excused himself from the women and expertly wove his way through the sea of people. (Trying not to look like he was dodging attacks in a match.)

Where was she?

_**Damn** it!_

He growled and finished off the champagne, carefully setting the empty glass on a serving tray, then something caught his eye.

Great.

The fucking _Fire Ferrets_ were there too.

Of course they were, the event was for the Avatar, wasn't it?

Then,

something else caught his eye.

The same necklace...

He cocked his head a little and subtly scrutinized the woman hanging off the arm of the Ferrets' captain.

No, it couldn't be her.

She didn't move confidently enough.

Like she was uncomfortable in her own skin.

Still...

He waited for an opportunity to walk close to the woman.

No.

It wasn't her.

It wasn't.

He'd know if she was.

...

In all honesty, Tahno was a wreck by the end of the night: there were three other women wearing the same necklace at the gala.

_**.**_

_**Now**_

.

He hesitated.

He could see her outlined by the light of the moon.

He swallowed.

Then he smirked, allowing the very fond memories he had of her to play across his face, and he reached out to the door and opened it.

It swung open slowly between them.

She was backlit (as always) and he couldn't make out her features.

But it was her.

He knew the sound of her walk.

The texture of her hair between his fingers.

The feel of her skin.

Her laugh.

His senses knew the shape of her like this, even if he probably couldn't recognize her in broad daylight.

...

"Oh," he drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe, "it's you."

.

_**One month ago**_

.

Should he have egged on the Avatar the way he did?

Hmmm.

Probably _not_.

But, _damn_, it was fun.

And really, she gave as good as she got.

He really was surprised by that uppercut.

She earned that round one hundred percent.

And, oh man, did he enjoy bricking that smug firebender's face.

He had never enjoyed cheating so much in his life.

Shaozu and Ming loved it too, he could tell.

They had the time of their lives.

.

He threw up over the side of the skiff on the way to his gran's yacht to see what they could do for him.

The vertigo was so bad on the water that he just wished he could pass out.

.

When he was lucid enough to do so, he couldn't stop thinking about two things:

his bending.

and her.

.

He didn't remember most of the night.

The nightmares, he remembered, though.

.

The next morning, he got his cousins to drag him to shore so that he could go talk to Lin at the police station.

It took him an hour to feel like he could walk without retching.

Lin didn't know anything about a girl _this tall_ with black hair and an ugly hat.

No, actually, he didn't know her name.

...

The not knowing was the worst part.

.

_**Now**_

.

She didn't reply, but from the tilt of her head and the way she shifted her stance, he knew she was giving that smile she did when she saw straight through his bullshit.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

He turned sideways (careful not to touch her, because he didn't like starting a match from a position of weakness) and gestured with his empty glass for her to enter.

It was the first time she'd ever come to his home.

She took a seat with the moon still behind her and arranged herself elegantly.

Tahno sat back where he was before.

He was so _fucking relieved_ that he couldn't say anything at first.

So they sat in silence for a while. Though it wasn't exactly comfortable, it was somewhat familiar. He idly twisted the glass in his fingers.

"You seem different," he said finally.

"You don't," she replied.

His heart seized and he exhaled softly.

She couldn't know how that speared him to his (very grateful waterbending) soul.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked after clearing his throat.

"Yes, please," she said quietly, "a bourbon, if you've got it."

He pulled a glass and poured her a generous portion. After a moment, he poured himself one too.

He handed her the glass

and she

very _carefully_

and _deliberately_

let her fingers touch his.

He ignored the response the warmth from her touch sent through him and sat down next to her, draping his arm (casually) across the couch behind her shoulders. She took a deep drink from the glass and sighed appreciatively, tipping her dark-haired head onto his shoulder. He swallowed again and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

She did not smell like herself.

"You smell like a Satomobile engine," he said, wrinkling his nose.

She laughed sadly.

He reached his hand from behind her on the couch and ran his fingers lightly over her carefully coiffed hair. He'd always wanted to pull the tortoise-seal shell combs out, but she never let him. He'd never once seen just how long her hair was.

"I'm sorry I haven't come by sooner," she said quietly, "it took me a while to track you down after the attack at the arena."

He went still.

"Well," he said a bit tightly, "maybe I could have given you my address if I'd seen you before that."

"Tahno," she said in a low voice, "you could have given me your address any time in the last three years."

"Yeah, well," he snapped, "you could have given me _yours_, and_ your name_ any time in the last _**three years**_ too! Agni knows I asked you enough times, Sweetheart!"

He could feel her tense under his arm.

"Ask me now," she choked.

"What's your name?" he demanded angrily.

"Asami," she whispered.

That didn't sound right.

He'd never once thought her name was Asami.

Funny how that would be his first thought.

"Asami," he repeated, his mind working furiously to place it.

Asami... Asami...

(You smell like a Satomobile.)

He recoiled away from her and leaped to his feet.

"Y-you're Asami Sato?!" he blurted in shocked disbelief.

She sat a little hunched on the couch, elegant hands wrapped tightly around the drink he'd given her.

Her silence was confirmation enough.

"Oh, my fucking...!" he pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes.

"You're Asami Sato," he stated flatly.

And so,

the mystery was _solved_.

His muse was none other than the _daughter_ of the man who supplied the Equalists with everything they needed to_ terrorize_ and _mutilate_ benders like _him_.

None other than the very public sponsor (and girlfriend!) of the fucking Fire Ferret (_not_ the Wolfbat).

Oh, how _badly_ he wanted to kick (forget _brick_!) that firebender's _teeth_ out.

He also wanted to throttle her hypocritical throat.

(_What happened to not being seen with a pro-bender, huh?!_)

He exhaled angrily, trying to compose himself.

"Tahno..." she started, a pleading in her voice.

He held up the hand holding the glass and pointing a finger at her to silence her.

"Don't," he said in a low voice, not looking at her. "Just... don't..."

_Three years..._

Well.

It just figured, he sneered, looking out accusingly at the moon.

He pulled his chair aggressively in front of her and sat down in it, resting his elbows on his knees.

He took a deep drink and rolled the glass in between his hands.

"Why all the subterfuge?" he drawled with a smirk. "Sato heiress too good to be seen with me?"

She scoffed.

"Yeah," she said angrily, "like I wanted to be another notch in your bedpost for the tabloids to run with. Been quite a year for you, _Sweetheart_."

He scowled angrily.

"So you went and decided to be a notch in that Ferret's instead?" he snarled through clenched teeth.

She laughed bitterly.

"Not exactly," she ground out.

He heard the hurt in her voice and he felt it like a bruise to him... like taking a rock to the ribs.

"It seemed that," she said icily, crossing her arms, "after my_ lying, deceptive, terrorist_ father told me that I was capable of making my own decisions about who to be seen in public with, you _quite literally_ had enough to keep both hands full without me. I didn't think, at that point, I'd be missed."

He scratched the back of his neck jerkily, mulling over her point.

"You were _missed_," he grated.

She didn't answer, turning away and staring at the door.

He got an eye full of her lovely profile as he willed with _everything_ in him that she wouldn't go back out the door.

"You could have said something," he sighed, leaning back so he didn't have to look at her.

"And what would I have said? 'Hey Tahno, even though you've got dozens of gorgeous women _thowing_ themselves at you _every night_, and you don't even really know _who I am_, and I haven't seen you for a _year_, what do you think about monogamy?'" she affected a falsely chipper, vapid air as she said this and he couldn't help but chuckle.

Yeah, she did have a point there.

After she left (deserted), he actually did enjoy the non-monogamy that being a Wolfbat facilitated.

She still stabbed him in the heart though.

And it hurt enough that he wasn't above a little stabbing back.

"Speaking of monogamy," he drawled flippantly, "how's it going with you and the Ash-Hole and the Avatar? Any hot threesomes with her that I should hear about?"

She kicked him in the shin.

Hard.

With her fucking pointy boot.

He grunted in pain and swore under his breath as he rubbed the spot.

"I'm not part of that equation anymore," she scowled.

His eyebrows rose at the wavery tone in her voice.

That idiot actually _hurt_ her.

(Tahno was going to fucking_ kill_ him... He didn't let the murderous intent show in his eyes, of course.)

Instead, he hesitantly reached over and took her hand, turning it over and kissing the sensitive spot at the base of her palm, enfolding it in both of his.

"Well," he said dryly, "the Ferret may _sort _of know how to fight, but he never did strike me as having an overabundance of _brains_."

She breathed out a sad laugh, and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

"...How are you doing?" she asked quietly.

"Terrible, actually," he said. "But I'll be fine."

He eyed her warily.

He read newspapers.

"How about you?" he asked quietly.

She didn't answer, but he felt a hot tear drop onto one of his hands after a moment.

His face fell.

He pulled her into his lap without a word, and she curled up, burying her face into his neck and crying soundlessly. He sighed and rubbed his hand up and down her back. He kissed her head when he felt her shudder against him from the strength of her grief.

He lost his bending.

She lost everything else.

"Do you need a place to stay?" he asked quietly. "You can stay here."

(You should stay here.)

She tipped her head back to look up at him.

His breath was literally stolen away, she was so beautiful.

Her eyes were as green as the warm waters of the Fire Nation.

...and her lips.

He missed what she said, he was so taken by her beauty. She looked at him expectantly and he actually flushed with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he said, "could you repeat that?"

She gave him a watery smile and traced his lower lip with her thumb.

"I said I need to get back to Air Temple Island," she whispered, "we're heading to the South Pole tomorrow morning."

He arched an eyebrow.

"And _why_ in the_ hell_ would you want to go there?" he asked incredulously.

She laughed.

"We're going to see if Katara of the Southern Water Tribe can do anything for Korra and Lin Bei Fong," she said carefully.

"...I actually wanted to see if you wanted to come with us," she said hesitantly.

"No," he said flatly.

"Tahno..."

"No, **_thank_**_ you_," he articulated carefully.

Asami gave him a puzzled look.

Not pity, but puzzlement.

He could swear he could see the gears turning in her head, trying to figure him out.

"Why not?" she asked.

He narrowed his eyes and looked down his long, aristocratic nose at her.

"Don't you try that look with me, fella," she smirked up at him, "you _know_ that shit does _not_ fly with this girl."

He actually quirked a crooked smile at that.

She grinned back.

"Why not?" she asked again.

"Blood feud," he said, gesturing vaguely with his hand, "also, it won't work. That fucker messed us up too bad. It's irreversable. It's like losing an eye. Some things you just can't fix."

Asami's face fell.

"Tahno... are... are you sure?" she asked quietly, "how can you be sure?"

"Sorry, Sweetheart," he said tightly, trying to force a smile for her benefit, "you have to be Deep Waters Clan for me to tell you that."

She pouted.

Tahno's eyes went straight to that beautiful, plump lip.

He swallowed.

She licked it and gave him a slow smile.

His narrowed eyes went to hers and he tipped his head to the side.

"Sorry Sweetheart," he said in a high pitched-voice, "that shit does _not_ fly with me." He rolled his eyes and gave a feminine flick of his hand for emphasis.

She laughed and blushed, slapping his chest lightly. He grinned and caught her hand, lacing his fingers with hers.

"Stay with me," he whispered in her ear. "I'll take you over in the morning."

She bit her lip.

The silence became uncomfortable, and he couldn't help but sigh quietly.

Moorless, he thought, that was the word... Since his bending was ripped out of him.

(Since she left.)

(His body did not want to let her go.)

He moved to help her to her feet so that she could leave.

But she shifted suddenly

and kissed him softly,

so he went still,

barely breathing.

(Feeling like he was breathing for the first time.)

His fingers trailed slowly up her neck and into her hair.

Her hand came up and she pulled the combs from it, and he sighed as the soft coil of her hair came loose in his fingers.

She smelled like engine and perfume.

"I missed you," he murmured honestly before he could hold it in.

She could have poked a hole through his veneer like one of her spiked heels through an ice-covered puddle.

But she didn't.

She put her hands on the sides of his face and looked up at him.

"I missed you too," she said softly.

Her green, green eyes so wide and open.

Then she kissed him again.

And he got to suck the pouty lip.

Of _Miss_ Asami Sato.

The whole night long.


	2. Asami, Three Years Ago

_**A/N**: In my headcanon, Asami is a smart, sheltered, rich girl with a pretty narrow perspective given the limited experience she's had in her life up to the point she actually meets Tahno for the first time. Her father has been involving her, to appropriate degrees, in the day to day business and engineering of Future Industries from the time she was quite young. The progression of the three years leading up to the events of LOK are written from that privileged perspective, and I've tried to show her naivety from that time contrasted with how the events from LOK had an impact on her personality._

_Does she change?_

_Yes, yes she does._

* * *

_**Now (One month after the Equalist terrorist attacks.)**_

_**.**_

Asami drove up slowly to the curb and turned off the Avatar's Satomobile, looking out over the private marina. She swallowed hard and gripped the wheel nervously, leather of her driving gloves grabbing a little. Then she cleared her throat and took off her goggles and gloves, tossing them onto the passenger seat. Decision made, she quickly pulled her hair up into a tight knot on the back of her head and fastened it there with two tortoise-seal combs she always used to keep her hair back when she was working on engines.

(She wanted him to be able to recognize her, after all.)

Before she could change her mind, she got out of the vehicle, smoothed down the front of her skirt, checked herself in the mirror, and made her way to the marina entrance.

Fog was starting to blanket the marina and she could hear a buoy bell occasionally ring sadly as a wave unbalanced it enough to make a sound.

She sighed, steeling herself.

She wished she still had that damn hat.

.

_**Three years ago**_

.

She jiggled her knee and bit her lip nervously.

It was _bullshit_, that's what it was.

The Wolfbats did _great_ out there and the press was tearing them apart because they were _new_.

She passed by a radio outside that a few Tigerdillo fans who were clustered around, scoffing and poking sarcastic remarks at every second thing the Wolfbats captain said. The guy sounded tired and irritated, but trying to keep his cool while the interviewer tried to get a rise out of him.

That did it for her.

She had to _say_ something.

It was one of the things her father was instilling in her, to recognize good work and give encouragement. It set him apart as a business leader, and it was the excuse she was using to justify what she was doing now.

(Because, she really wasn't supposed to be sneaking out to the pro-bending arena for Saturday matinees... But, you know, she really _did_ need to test that suspension, and to do that she needed to drive pretty damn _fast_... And then, coincidentally, she had all this time on her hands before she had to get back because the tests usually took _longer_...)

She caught her reflection in a window and her eyes widened. Her hair was a tangled mess and her makeup was all smeared from her eyes watering from the drive. She rubbed under her eyes, trying to clean up the mascara smudged there and did a pretty good job, but her hair was hopeless. So she just twisted it up and jammed her combs into it, pulling the cute hat she'd bought earlier that week to keep her warm while driving on over top.

Well, that didn't look too bad, she supposed, turning her head from side to side to examine her wavery reflection. She grinned and snuck quickly up the hall to the private locker room one of the Wolfbats' sponsors booked for them for the season. She stopped in front of the heavy door and wiggled her fingers and bounced lightly on her toes a couple of times to loosen up.

Just like a sales pitch.

Ugh.

Actually, no, she sucked at those.

She heard a crash and a low voice muttering something.

(Okay, he was there, good.)

Just do it, Asami! (Before someone catches you and tells your father!)

She knocked awkwardly on the door and heard some shuffling before the door abruptly opened.

Oh.

Oh, _wow_, he was _much_ better looking up close.

(Oh, _man_, she would get in so much trouble if her father caught her here!)

She muttered something silly, looking over her shoulder and then she told him he was going to win the championships.

(Seriously, Asami?!_ Seriously_?!)

He laughed at her.

He _laughed_ at her.

She was not happy.

(Asami had found in cases where she wasn't being taken seriously, often a good offence was the best defense.)

She got in his grill.

(He looked taken aback...

but there was a little flash of _something_ in his eye that told her he maybe sorta_ liked_ it a little, too.)

"I know," he said tiredly, interrupting her heartfelt rant and looking like what she was saying was _so_ obvious.

But then...

Then she saw he was actually pretty down about it, and trying not to let it show, and she maybe, sorta knew a little about what it was like to have so much expectation on you and then just not be good enough right that very second when it counted...

And he said something _snarky_ to her.

...except he also called her 'sweetheart' _and_ said he'd win the championships just for her.

(and he_ was_ being a _dick_, but Asami knew that sometimes you just had to trust your gut on things...)

So she kissed him on the cheek.

And told him he _would_ win the championships.

(Because if there was one thing Asami Sato knew, it was when things would work, and dammit, those Wolfbats worked!)

And when she skittered down the hall,

(Because, _damn_, she was _late_!)

she tossed something about him not needing luck.

(Because luck was for suckers,

and he was so damn good in that arena that luck was not even a factor.)

Two weeks later, she listened avidly to the finals match on the radio, bent over the engine of a new prototype luxury Satomobile they were working on.

The Wolfbats made it to the finals, like she knew they would.

_...He_ made it.

And then they _won_ and she screamed happily and threw her hands straight up into the air and the grease gun flew out of her hands and put a dent in the side-view mirror.

But she didn't care because,

she could hear how _breathless_ he was from the victory.

(And she knew how that felt,  
cutting a new speed record with an engine she built that performed_ just so_.)

And she was _so_ excited for him.

And she danced around all by herself on the factory floor with the overhead lights flickering.

And then,

then he said,

"That was for you, Sweetheart!"

and he said _'Sweetheart'_ in the exact same way that he did when he was rude to her,

but she could hear it in his voice,

clean like a bell in her heart,

he was talking to _her_.

And Asami Sato went still like a statue,

and Asami Sato snuck out,

and Asami Sato was _so_ scared she was going to get _caught_,

but,

but she just...

she just _had_ to...

She found them at Narook's, and she flashed her Asami Sato smile and she went and slid in next to him (because she was Asami Sato and people made way for Asami Sato).

...and she grinned like stupid because the Wolfbats were officially the _Drunk Skunks_.

and he couldn't even do anything (let alone understand what she was saying) but stare into her eyes, also grinning stupid.

And so the both of them were grinning like stupid together, and she knew she had to get the hell out of there (because that prototype shouldn't even be _seen_ yet, let alone on the _road_), and he couldn't hear her over the noise, so she wrote him a note from a pad in her purse and slipped it in his pocket.

And he looked _very_ taken aback.

And _just that second_ she realized what that probably looked (_felt!_) like to him.

And she turned _red_.

And he gave her a _very_ charming smile.

And before she could say anything, he leaned forward and gave her

one. hell. of. a. _kiss_.

When he pulled back, she couldn't do anything but blink a couple of times, but then a flashbulb went off nearby (actually, not _that_ near, but _close enough_) and she panicked and ran like hell out of there.

(If it got in the _paper_!)

And she heard his disappointed, embarrassed voice complaining after her and the other Wolfbats laughing.

Then she realized what she just did probably _looked_ like to him,

and she decided she had to make it up to him.


	3. Asami, Two and a Half Years Ago

_**A/N**: thanks for all the PM's I've been receiving! Reviews are also much appreciated. :) I'd love to hear what you think about the story so far. I'm trying to show how the characters evolve over the four years, and it's definitely a challenge because of the disjoint between the past and the present._

_As some of you may have noted, I'm making Tahno and Asami a little older than they are in the series. I think that they act to be at least in their early twenties in the show. I also don't buy that Asami would be taken so utterly by surprise that her father was so crucially involved with the Equalists. I think that there would have been hints of this for her, and she would have felt tremendous guilt after._

* * *

_**Now**_

.

She walked slowly up the low-lit pier, but then stopped to carefully wipe her eyes when she couldn't see straight. She felt kinda pathetic when she followed their _hair stylist_ down to the marina and spied until she could make out his (surprisingly low-key) yacht. But, the police would not let her know where he was (right to privacy), and she couldn't track him down.

And nobody in Republic City would talk to her.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and steeled herself.

What was she going to say to him now? She had a legitimate reason to be there, but really...

really...

.

_**Two years, eleven months ago**_

.

Okay.

_Okay._

She could do this.

Two weeks and not a peep from the papers. Her hair had practically been standing on end until she learned that Narook did not allow paparazzi into his establishment. (Thank the spirits!) But she was paranoid now, so she wore the low-brimmed hat again, tucking her hair up tightly, just in case. She actually got stopped by security on her way out because she always, _always_ wore her hair down and she _never_ wore those kinds of shoes (only boots),

and they didn't _recognize_ her.

Asami decided to remember this.

She stood in front of his locker room door and knocked awkwardly (What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn't she knock properly?)

Then he opened the door,

in his undershirt,

and she realized exactly why she couldn't knock properly.

(Oh man, she was such a dork.)

"Hello-o-o, Sweetheart," he drawled, eyes smiling while the rest of him smirked, "come to give me a proper kiss this time?"

Then Asami laughed _delightedly_,

because she realized that _he_

did not _remember_

their _first_ kiss.

And it was _funny_ that she kinda had that over him.

"You won," she said smugly.

And he conceded that she had been right.

And her heart melted a little, because she was not expecting him to be like that.

But she couldn't help rubbing it in, just a tiny bit. She was a little competitive, after all.

"Did you get my message?" she asked.

She held her breath a little.

"Did you get mine?" he drawled slyly.

...

Oh.

...

It _was_ for her.

"I did," she felt the words leave her, something in her stretching out farther than she meant it to.

"I got yours too," he said.

And he looked...

he looked...

unsettled.

...

He was a little _nervous_.

...

And suddenly, Asami knew what to do.

She _flirted_.

And it _worked_.

He said he'd win his next match for her if she gave him a proper kiss.

And she knew it was a line,

it _had_ to be.

But she trusted her gut again and she gave him a _proper_ kiss.

And it was so...

it was...

Oh, _wow_.

And he made this sound that made her think he had to be waterbending her in some way because of how _good_ it made her feel.

And the Wolfbats freaking _decimated_ the Eel Hounds.

.

_**Now**_

.

Asami knocked awkwardly on the hatch and after a moment she could hear him slowly cross the room to the door.

He didn't answer.

She forced herself to not clench her nails into her palms, and she looked over her shoulder to the half-full moon behind her. _Please_. She turned forward to the door again. _Please_. Her heart pulled at him, willing him to open the door.

The sound of the soft latch was loud in the foggy night.

The door swung slowly open and he stood there.

White shirt,  
black pants.

she gave a soft, shuddering breath of relief that she prayed he couldn't hear.

Be strong.

Be _strong_.

His eyes slowly walked her up and down.

"Oh," he said quietly, "it's you."

.

_**Two Years, 9 Months Ago**_

.

She tapped on the door of his locker and he cracked it open. He eyed her through the dark sliver and she could see him grin widely.

"What are you doing?" she arched an eyebrow and laughed.

"I dinged Chang's Satomobile," Tahno drawled, "and he took it personally. He's gunning for me."

_Dinged?_

"Uh," she said dryly, "I saw that on my way in. That was not a _ding_."

They heard shouting down the hall and Tahno shot her a wide-eyed look of amusement. She squeaked as he suddenly grabbed her arm and dragged her behind him into his brightly-lit locker room. He snickered in glee as he led her to the wood locker and abruptly shifted it aside, revealing a small alcove in the wooden wall behind it. He shimmied in, balancing carefully on the wooden rail along the bottom and held out his hand for her.

"Come on," he drawled in a low voice, "he won't find us in here."

"You've got to be kidding me!" she hissed incredulously.

Stomping footsteps could be heard from down the hall, and Tahno's eyes widened in urgency, he grabbed her hand and twisted her into him before sliding the locker shut with a handle on the inside just as the locker room door slammed open.

"Alright Wolfcrap!" Chang, earthbending captain of the Boar-q-pines, snarled with death in his voice, "I know you're in here. I saw you come in, and you didn't come out." He stomped his foot on the stone floor and it rippled ominously, shaking the alcove. Asami's breath quickend in panic, but Tahno pulled her closer and whispered a 'shhh' in her ear, and she rested her head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady and calm. She heard rustling and cursing as Chang stomped around the room and then into the common area he shared with Shaozu and Ming. They heard him scuffle and swear at the other rooms. Finally, after what seemed like ages he left.

She listened to the sound of their breaths for a good, long time before she finally chanced a whisper.

"Does this happen to you often?" she asked dryly.

"Often enough," he chuckled sardonically, "Ming got sick of it and bashed this out for me, if only to keep me playing."

"You have a _panic_ room in your _locker_ room," she whispered, covering her mouth with her fingers to hold back her giggle.

"Don't tell," he grinned, breathing closer to her ear. "Or I'm a dead man."

"I won't," she whispered, turning her face to his. His voice held a note of teasing, but she couldn't be sure. And honestly, given what she'd just seen, he probably wasn't.

...

Gosh, it was awfully close in here.

She licked her lips and ran her hands up his chest.

"You smell nice," she whispered.

He smirked and shook his head a little.

"There's a salon in town that's sponsoring our hair, if you can believe it," he said sardonically. "They give us free cuts twice a month and all the hair goop we want."

She pressed up into his neck and breathed him in.

Oh, smelled _really_ good.

Um... she'd have to find out who their sponsor was.

She felt him swallow and his hands rested on her waist, just holding her there for a minute.

...

"So are you going to kiss me, or what?" he drawled impatiently, his hands gripping her waist.

"I think it's your turn to do the..." she grinned, but he cut her off, lifting her up off her feet and pressing her into the wall of the small room with his body. He kissed her so hard... and _good_... he left her gasping for breath. He grinned and pushed open the door of the alcove and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and sliding her against the wall of the dark room.

(Thank you, Chang, for turning off the lights, at least...)

"What's your name?" he demanded breathlessly, sliding his hands over her rear and down her thighs, long fingers squeezing lightly.

(A slither of panic if her father found out heightened everything.)

"I can't," she moaned, twisting her fingers into his soft hair. He moved his mouth to her neck and his pelvis pushed up deliciously against hers. Asami saw stars. His hands moved to her face and he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Please, Sweetheart," he begged with a chuckle.

Asami.

It was on the tip of her tongue, but she knew the wrath of her father. The Agni Kai gang never knew what hit them he nailed them so hard after they killed her mother. If he knew what she was up to...

and with whom...

(As he sucked a spot on her neck right below her ear that made her dizzy.)

It was for the best, really.

"No," she said firmly.

He stopped.

...And she pouted. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously, "are you married?"

She blinked.

It was the way he said it. Like it wasn't so much the fact that she was married that bothered him, but that she might have been keeping it from him. She laughed so hard that he jumped away from her and _then_ he asked her how old she was,

and she could have _died_ it was so funny.

And then he just went prudish and really, really uncomfortable because he thought she was a minor, and she was actually really kinda touched at his reaction, in a funny sort of way.

"N-no," she tried for her best reassuring voice, but it was spoiled by the fact that she was still laughing a little, "I'm old enough."

He crossed his arms and _sulked_. She could see his outline from the light seeping in through the door.

He was wearing black pants and a white shirt.

And he looked delicious.

She told him about her father and the dire consequences if he found out. What she didn't say was that she actually found it a little bit exciting that he didn't really know who she was, and she suspected that it was the same for him.

But he huffed a sigh,

resigned.

Asami let out her breath in disappointment and started to walk away.

(She hadn't realized she'd been holding it.)

"Where are you going, Sweetheart?" he asked in a sensual drawl.

Her heart skittered across the room.

.

**_Now_**

.

He was trying to be so cool, but she didn't buy it. He looked so good in the bright moonlight. She smiled at him, admiring and nostalgic. The buoy bell gave another sad, quiet clang in the distance. The fog had smeared the lights in the harbour and the city beyond into indistinct halos.

They were alone, and, for once, it didn't matter if they were seen or not.

She sort of wished someone actually _did_ see them.

She reached up and ran her fingers across his handsome face. Honestly, his features were so sharp he could probably poke somebody's eye out with that chin.

(Ha, as if she should talk).

She should talk.

(Why was she still in the dark hiding from him?)

She realized he was trying not to flinch from her touch and it hurt her more than she thought was possible.

"Can I come in?" she asked. (Afraid, afraid.)

He turned to the side and looked away from her, his bangs hanging down into his face, and he gestured her in with an empty glass in his hand.  
She walked by (nervously) and sat down in the only seating in the compact yacht big enough for two people. (Hoping he'd take the hint, but knowing she had no right to hope anything from him.)

He sat in a chair across the living area, away from her.

The warmth in her chest sputtered and she forced it not to burn out.

This was familiar, at least.

Together.

(I'm alone.)

In the dark.

She realized that the moon was behind her and he probably still couldn't make out her features, and he seemed okay with that. That actually made her smile a little.

They listened to one of his old games while she took in his appearance again. She couldn't get over how good he looked. He'd been keeping up his physical training. Nico the hair stylist (who she'd stalked down here) had done his job well.

(The way a person took care of themselves was often an indicator of other things.)

...

She had been so upset when Korra told them all about the state he was in at the police station. How Asami's father had pointedly ignored him, and how that had been strange to Korra at the time, but now that they knew how much he hated benders that it made so much more sense.

Ha. She didn't know the half of it.

Asami'd had to excuse herself with a big ol' smile on her face, and forced herself to not throw up in the washroom. The guilt and horror of it all washed through her like waves of ice while she considered the possibility that her father may have had something to do with _Tahno_ (always thought he was a dirtbag) being publicly tortured like that.

She watched him twist the empty glass with his elegant fingers the way he used to move water.

"You look different," he said quietly.

"You don't," she said quietly.

The stricken, raw expression on his face froze her and her heart broke for him.

(So much taken, so much not given.)

"Would you like a drink?" he asked hesitantly.

She would not cry.

She wouldn't.

"Yes please," she mumbled, "a bourbon, if you've got it."

He reached into a small cabinet with a very small selection of liquor and cracked open a new bottle and poured her a lot of liquor. (She'd told him once it was her favourite and he'd said that he'd keep a bottle of it around.) He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, and then poured the same for himself.

He handed it to her, a bit less than elegantly than usual, and she

just had to

touch him.

Just a _little_.

She ran her fingers over his own as she took the glass he handed her,

and he sat down snugly next to her and put his arm across the couch behind her.

Asami could have _cried_.

She took a deep drink of the glass to steel herself and rested her head on his shoulder instead.

He rested his cheek on the top of her head.

Like it was the most normal thing in the world.


	4. Asami, Two Years Ago

_**Two Years Ago**_

.

They were so good.

Asami's eyes glittered as she watched the Wolfbats take the Lion Vultures from the box seat she finally, finally convinced her father to buy for the season. They were so damn good. They were playing with everything they had. Tahno knocked out one and Shaozu took the other two in the second round, and that was that. Back-to-back champions, second year running. She couldn't believe it. She screamed with excitement for them. She could see Tahno scanning as he smirked and waved to the crowd.

(Searching, searching)

His eyes passed right over her, and her heart did a funny little flop of relief

(and _disappointment_.)

She ducked out of the box before she could think too hard, and into the VIP powder room without anyone noticing. Because, actually, Asami had gotten damn good at sneaking around the pro-bending arena over the last year. She had a system. She changed her clothes and then stood in front of the mirror, carefully pulling her hair up and fixing it with her combs. Then she put on the hat, and freshened her perfume.

She knew it really _was_ a weak disguise at best, but sometimes people purposefully didn't see the obvious.

Because they didn't want to,

or they _needed_ not to.

Sometimes the illusion was preferable to what really was.

She swallowed painfully, trying not to think too hard. Then she left the VIP washroom, picked the lock on the nearby service door, and snuck into Tahno's locker room. She waited for him in the alcove while Ming and Shaozu came and left quickly (laughing and swearing the whole time).

Then she quietly opened the alcove door, stepped out of it, and she slowly closed it with a quiet click. She waited (not long) in the dark for him.

He stormed in like a force of nature and slammed and locked the door before crashing into her and pinning her against the wall

with his _body_

and his _hungry_ mouth.

But Asami Sato

could be a force of nature _too_.

She pivoted

just _so_

and she dug herself

into his sweaty, dirty, scorched uniform,

and told him he was _amazing,_

because he _was_.

And he must have liked what she was doing because he growled, and gripped the front of her hat,

like it was _prey_.

She stiffened up and prayed to the spirits that her hair combs wouldn't come flying out with the hat.

"You promised," he faintly snarled, misinterpreting her response.

Shivers of pleasure went up her spine the way he said that.

"Hat only," she murmured.

That was the deal. They won the championship, she let him take off her hat. It was a _game_ now, for him to unravel. And Tahno was a surprisingly patient man, when he had something to unravel. He flipped it off, so quickly and so precisely, that she inhaled sharply and waited for his response while the rebellious strands of hair that had clung the hat settled around her face.

"You cheated..." he said flatly.

It took Asami by surprise, and her heart sank for a moment with disappointment and hurt, thinking he didn't like what he saw.

"...I want to see your hair."

She blinked as what he said sunk in.

Oh.

Oh my _goodness_.

This was too good to be _true_.

She had something _much_ better planned.

But she decided to unravel _him_ a little first.

"My hair has been like this every single time I've seen you," she said evenly, "you didn't say anything about my hair."

And now that she knew that her hair was a thing for him, she was going to play that. She could feel him tense and he ran an angry hand through his own hair. It stuck up, and she forced herself not to giggle.

"I said I wanted to see what was under that hat!" he snapped, frustrated.

Oh, he was _so_ upset.

(She was positively gleeful at this.)

"What about the rest?" she asked carefully, lacing her voice with mischief.

His reaction was so much better than she could have ever hoped for.

He froze.

He tipped his head.

And gave her a _look_ that she could sense, even in the dark.

"What?" he scowled incredulously.

Her fingers slid up the front of her light silk blouse and she began undoing the buttons slowly. The way his hungry eyes followed the movement made pleasure coil through her like a clock spring coming loose.

"What abou..." she started breathily.

He descended on her, yes, like a _wolfbat_. They tore each other's clothes off as they made their way to the tank used for post-match waterbending healing in one of the adjoining rooms.

And then

Tahno showed her

_exactly_

what he could really do

with _water_.

When her father slapped a newspaper on the table two mornings later, opened to a spread entitled _Tahno's Mystery Muse? _with her in a column along with several other of Republic City's most high-profile "Eligible Bachelorettes",

she panicked.

Then she laughed _incredulously _(nervously).

Then her father grilled her upside down and sideways.

He was not convinced.

She caught a tail (the ones she recognized were her father's men) on more than one occasion.

And she did not see Tahno (except from a distance during the matches she normally attended, now with her father) for _five months_.

And the Wolfbats _tanked_.

And it utterly broke her heart to see them like this. He was so distracted, and angry with himself for being so distracted. Ming and Shaozu were interviewed and they spoke indirectly (and resentfully) about Tahno's mystery muse inexplicably ditching him.

And the media _loved_ it.

And Tahno wouldn't give an interview.

And the media loved that _more_.

Then, finally, there was that event that they both attended, and her father saw them together. She blushed and stammered as she talked to him, and he was perfectly charming and respectful... And he did not _recognize_ her.

And her father was finally convinced.

He told her that people like Tahno used up women and tossed them aside when they were done. He said that she was too good to allow herself to be treated like that. He said that she should let this crush pass. She smiled, then bit her lip and hugged her father, and said she was embarrassed for admiring from afar, but that she really appreciated the skill and teamwork of pro-bending and Tahno of the Wolfbats was one of the best.

Like a well-tuned machine.

Well her father could get that, at least.

The tails disappeared after another week.

She waited another two weeks before going to see him again.

Tahno was _furious_.

He was so angry that a pipe in the locker room burst and she heard the water spraying on the tile floor in the next room. She explained what had happened. She explained all the tactics of her powerful guardian (father!), and Tahno got this look in his eye, like he knew about these kinds of tactics.

_Intimately_.

He stopped yelling and pacing. He was still furious, but he sat down beside her with his hands laced behind his head for a long time. Then he put his arm around her and pulled her snug beside him, and said he had a plan, and to trust him.

He had a girl on each arm whenever he was in the paper from then on.

The media _loved_ it.

Asami _hated_ it.

She didn't know what kind of trust this was supposed to be.

But it _worked_.

And really,

what could she say about trust?

He didn't even know her face.

.

_**Now**_  
.

"You smell like a Satomobile engine," he said, wrinkling his nose.

She laughed sadly, thinking that was appropriate.

She'd been working on the one in the Avatar's car earlier, trying to figure out what to say.

Trying to screw up enough courage to come here.

He reached his hand from behind her on the couch and ran his fingers lightly over her carefully coiffed hair, his fingers lingered on the tortoise-seal combs. He'd always wanted to pull them out, but she never let him.

She'd never let him see who she really was.

.

**_One year ago_**

.

She'd escaped back home after the awful game because the other fans were acting on the betrayal she felt. She listened to interview after interview of non-committal statements from all three of them while she waited to be able to sneak back.

She was so disappointed.

It was like he'd betrayed her personally.

"You cheated," she accused, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glaring at him from the backlit entrance. He sat on the bench in his locker room, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked down at his at his hands. He was wearing a black shirt and black pants. He wasn't hiding in the shadows, but it was like he was trying to give the appearance of doing so.

He'd waited though.

Championship win night and he'd waited for her.

For hours.

"Yep," he sighed quietly.

It struck her then that if he'd denied it to her, she would have believed him, even though she knew what she saw in the arena. Upon that realization, she was overcome by such a wave of anger (at herself) and jealousy (she had no right, though) that she couldn't do anything but walk away.

Her father took her on a business trip to Gaoling for a couple of weeks, and she thought about a lot of things as they soared in their airship over the hills and mountains. The question of _why_ they cheated was predominant in her mind.

They didn't have to, to win.

She sought him out a few days after they got back. She waited on the bench, back to the door.

"Why did you cheat?" she asked him quietly when he came into the locker room after his practice.

He sighed and slowly closed the door. It shut heavily and the latch clicked softly.

"Gimme a minute," he mumbled tiredly. She heard him set his heavy duffle bag down and he got cleaned up and changed slowly. Then he sat beside her on the bench for a while before speaking.

"There's more to it than skill, Sweetheart," he sighed finally. "It's about showmanship too. We're... we're a product, with a persona that we need to feed the public to get them to keep coming out to games. And... we can't keep feeding them the same stuff or they get bored and don't want to come out any more. I've taken some pretty bad hits... Chang wrecked my knee last season..."

She remembered the way his cry echoed above the cheers of the fans as he hit the ground after that hit. The specialist waterbending healer they had on retainer was especially grim as she looked Tahno over. He had been limping and white-faced, supported by Ming and Shaozu on either side when Asami peeked out from behind the alcove door after the locker door slammed open. He'd spent a good two hours in the healing tank hissing curses and trying not to thrash as the healer worked. Asami had seen the pain he was in and had to fight herself to keep in the alcove and from his side. She'd been flat out shocked when he was back in action a mere two weeks later.

"...Even the best healers can only do so much for so long," he said seriously, "I've only got a couple more seasons tops in me. If we can't give them the show we used to in the arena, we have to give them a good show out of it."

She didn't say anything, trying to process what he'd said.

A _persona_...

that turned her lungs to knots.

(How much of _this_ is fake?)

"It's so much better if we can go out with a bang at the top," he said quietly, putting his hands in his pockets. "We've done pretty well with the championship pots and endorsement deals, but that'll start drying up pretty quick once we start falling off the bottom like the Boar-q-pines did. We've got to think long term and try to build up as much capital as we can while the going's good."

She breathed quickly and quietly, upset and trying to see things from his perspective.

...She _hated_ it.

There was something pure about pro-bending that just sang to her. The raw elemental, beautiful physicality of it that was so different to the precision engineering that she immersed herself in every day.

And to discover that Tahno was deliberately manipulating that for more _money_, of all things.

She couldn't _understand_ it.

"I-can't watch you cheat like that," she whispered disappointment and jealousy strangling her, "especially when you're good enough not to."

He froze beside her, seizing up like a glacier. Even though his posture didn't change, she could sense it.

"Here," he said, pulling something out of his pocket and holding it out for her. Asami could barely see it in the low light, but the chain glimmered, and she knew that it was gold.

And when waterbenders gave _necklaces_, it _meant_ something, didn't it?

She froze and she felt prickles of (realization? hope?)... something start in the centre of her chest and through her face and ears. She was blushing and wide-eyed, and he couldn't see any of it.

"I bought it _last_ year," he drawled tightly, and it was like she could hear him crack inside. Like he was breaking under her accusation and judgement.

She touched the necklace gently, trying to make out the details in the faint light from around the doorframe. She felt symmetrical waves around a central stone and a drop hanging off the bottom of the pendant.

"It's not an original," he slapped her with his words, "so you wont have to worry about me _finding_ you or anything. The designer is also popular enough with rich girls like you that nobody should question where you got it."

Oh.

It didn't mean anything, then.

It was just a pretty necklace, that _lots_ of other girls had.

She inhaled sharply a couple of times and turned her head quickly to the side to hide her tears.

But he was a waterbender, right? He'd _know_ if she was crying.

(really, though, what could she possibly expect from a man who didn't even know her _name_...  
who'd known her more intimately than _anyone_ else...  
who had only _ever_ dedicated matches to _her_...  
who'd won and lost games _because_ of her.)

She choked back a sob and steadied herself on his hand for a moment.

You know, he was actually surprisingly (disappointingly) steady, given the circumstances.

The pretty chain swayed between them for a moment.

She slowly took the necklace from him and turned it over in her hands, running her thumbs anxiously across the face of it.

"Thank you," she managed to get out politely, "it's lovely."

He laughed tightly.

"You know," he drawled in a low voice, leaning back on the bench with his hands, "I actually started to think you were from one of the crime families in town. But since my extended family is connected in one way or another to _most_ of them... I figured out that you aren't... so..."

She could hear something between them snap and break there.

A threat that maybe... maybe he'd just go and find out who she was... regardless of the consequences for both of them. She kinda liked that she could instigate him to recklessness.

"You hunting me, Wolfbat?" she said softly with a grin.

"Ever since you showed up, Sweetheart," he sighed, voice hungry in a way that made her pause.

She knew that tone

from his interviews.

Hungry for victory.

Hungry for a win.

He wanted to win.

And the persona, and the cheating, and the 'trust me', and the money...

and the other girls he had his arms wrapped around in all his photos.

It all clicked in a very clear, painful way for her.

She put the necklace in her pocket.

"Goodbye, Tahno," she whispered.

And she left.

For good.

.

_**Now**_

.

She felt stupid now.

Stupid and selfish, because she knew now what it was like when you had to worry about things like money, and reputation, and the futures of the people you worked with.

She knew what it was to put yourself physically on the line as a calculated risk. She knew what it was when things, good and bad, were not what they seemed. She knew what it was when you saw someone every day, and you knew them, and trusted them, and depended on them, and loved them, and then were utterly, utterly betrayed by them.

She knew what a gift it was when someone (who didn't even know you) took a leap of faith and trusted you, even though you didn't really give them a reason to.

She knew now what was just a _game_...

and what _wasn't_.


	5. Asami, the Last Few Months

_**A Few Months Ago**_

.

She wore the necklace to the Avatar's gala bitterly half-hoping that he'd recognize her.

Not two days after she'd said goodbye to Tahno, her father had casually left a newspaper open to a page showing shots of Tahno taken during a drunken bout of debauchery. Asami could not deny the truth of them, and her father knew this. She'd come to the humiliating conclusion that her father had, in fact, known at least to some degree what had been going on all along.

"You know, Asami," he'd said quietly while she stared wide-eyed at the offensive photos, "you're an intelligent person. I trust you to make wise choices. If there's someone you're truly interested in being with, I won't stand in your way anymore. I just ask that you bring them by so that I can find out what's going on from _you_, first." He'd given a pointed, but gentle look at the newspaper, and Asami had turned red, and thanked him and gone for a swim to hide the tears.

After that, she'd gone on with her life and continued watching pro-bending, because she still loved it for the same reasons as before. And when she saw the Wolfbats play, she had to admit (bitterly to herself), they were, if nothing else, _entertaining_.

Then the day came when she hit Mako of the Fire Ferrets with her moped.

.

Crash.

.

Asami's heart did a flip-flop in her chest, and she babbled about how great he was when he played. When she was back scooting away on that stupid moped, it struck her like a bolt to the brain that she had a pretty _specific_ type.

And she could have cried at the embarrassing realization.

Instead, she had dinner with sweet, serious Mako, and she'd introduced him to her father, and her father had been so nice, and polite, and Mako had been...

delightful.

And they were delightful _together_.

However, Asami had grown a little jealous insight as of late. At the Avatar's gala, she quickly realized exactly _why_ Mako talked so fondly of Korra the Avatar. But she plastered a smile on her face and worked the crowd. She only saw the irony in what she was doing when she saw that Tahno was also there, and that he was doing the same thing with two of his fans.

And she laughed,

a little too long,

a little too hard,

at whatever it was that her father said,

because it was _funny_.

Miss Asami Sato had a _persona_ too.

And well, things went pretty much to shit after that.

Tahno heard her, and he came hunting her.

His eyes passed _right over her_. Whatever it was he was looking for in her, he must have found lacking, because as she nervously held her breath, he just scoffed irritably and walked on by.

Asami had to hold herself up on Mako's arm.

And Mako turned and smiled at her, with that heart-melting smile and warm eyes. And Asami decided that she was going to go toe to toe with the Avatar for this one.

But then, that went to shit too.

.

**_Now_**

.

"I'm sorry I haven't come by sooner," she said quietly, "it took me a while to track you down after the attack at the arena."

He went still.

And _furious_.

.

_**One Month Ago**_

.

She was stuck in the box seat (no car, no tools, no weapons), and she couldn't do _anything_ for _any_ of them.

She could only watch.

And her father watched too - with an expression she hadn't understood until much, much later.

And she cried in terror and horror.

_Because she'd been here, she'd felt this before when she was six, and her mother..._

And she couldn't even _see_ Mako and the others. (_Avatar, Avatar, save them!_)

And she watched the Equalists toss her beautiful, talented, cheating Wolfbats in the water,

like_ trash_.

She watched (with her nails digging so hard into her palms that she drew thin, watery blood) as Shaozu and Ming _dragged_ Tahno to the ledge,

because he was _drowning_.

And after the glass fell, and the lightning stopped hitting people, and the screams left the empty arena haunted with the ghosts of three championships past.

All she could do,

was run.

She tried.

She tried so damn hard to get to them all, but the police were everywhere, and they pushed her outside, and all she could do was wait.

Was wait.

And when she finally got word about how Tahno was doing from _Korra_ of all people, she'd sobbed with grief and fury and every other emotion she'd convinced herself she couldn't feel about him because she had no right to be jealous or in love because she'd given him nothing.

And her father had taken everything.

.

**_Now_**

.

"Well," he said with a vicious edge she'd never heard from him before, "maybe I could have _given_ you my address if I'd seen you _before_ that."

And yes, that was true, but it also was not. She knew now her father probably would have had him disappeared instead of just had his bending taken away. She got angry, and resentful about his behavior too (and the whole, damned, stupid situation) and she lashed out accordingly.

"Tahno," she said in a low voice, "you could have given me your address any time in the last _three years_."

"Yeah, well," he snapped, "you could have given me _yours_, and your_ name_ any time in the last _three years too_! Agni knows I asked you enough times, _Sweetheart_!"

Oh, there it was: an opening in his defense.

Spirits, she was scared. He was going to see her for who she really was. He was going to know her.

What if...

What if he hated her?

"Ask me now," she said, sounding strangled. She _felt_ like she was being strangled.

He went still and processed that for a moment. His fingers unconsciously gripped her hair a little.

"What's your name?" he demanded angrily.

"Asami," she breathed out.

He gave a little confused sigh and then said her name as though hunting her down in his memories.

And then he found her,

and he hated her.

And he raged and...

and he was so, so damn angry at her and who she was. His breaths were tight and short, and it was like he was trying to hold himself in. Because if he let it out he was going to _kill_ someone.

"Tahno..." she whispered, but he snapped up a hand so fast it scared her.

And he didn't throw the glass, but he pointed an accusing finger at her in a way that was almost as bad.

"Don't," he said with so much hurt and anger she was struck silent. "Just... don't..."

He glared up through the skylight at the moon, and Asami realized, with a whole lot of regret, that she'd never once seen him in the moonlight before.

He practically threw a chair in front of her and took an intimidating posture, like a coiled viper. And he tried to get in her grill. But if there was one thing that Asami Sato didn't let happen, it was let guys get in her grill without drawing blood back.

They threw the things they'd both done in each others' faces. All the assumptions and mistakes they'd made. And it hurt, but it needed to be done.

And she discovered something surprising. She discovered that they were _both_ fiercely jealous of each other.

He took her hand,

and kissed it,

and despite everything,

he actually told her that it was _Mako's_ loss.

And she _laughed_. (But not really, because how could she compare to the Avatar?) She looked up into his face and saw that he was scowling faintly, but he was serious. (Her heart stilled.) She also saw that he was, in fact, ragged around the edges like Korra.

"How are you doing?" she asked quietly.

His face fell, and she saw the tiredness in his posture, and the discomfort of trying to live in a skin that just didn't fit right anymore. He looked faintly ill.

"Terrible, actually," he said honestly. "But I'll be fine."

She believed him and it struck her straight through her like an icy spear that she could still believe anyone. She waited while he scrutinized her carefully.

"How about you?" he asked quietly.

And it was right then that she realized that nobody had asked her that since her father tried to kill her. And the grief overwhelmed her. And everything just went

...grey.

She felt his warm arms wrap around her and his fingers pulled her into his lap and she cried, all the while trying to hold it in because what right did she have to cry when so much more had been taken from so many others by her father. (Oh, spirits! All those dead people in the harbor!) She shook with the pain of it and she pressed her nose against skin that still

smelled the _same_!

still _felt_ the same!

And she cried until she had nothing left and she was just sad and still. And then he kissed her head.

"Do you need a place to stay?" he asked quietly.

He got it.

She didn't belong anywhere, really. Not with her father. Not with Mako.

"You can stay here."

There was an inflection in his voice that made it sound more like a statement (like it was settled) than an offer. He wanted her to stay. Not out of pity, or obligation, or suspicion, or hospitality. But because he_ wanted_ her to stay.

He wanted _her_.

She tipped her head back to look up at him and she had to blink, the moon was so bright in her eyes. And when they cleared, she saw him looking at her. Bewildered, that's what it was. He was bewildered.

"Thank you," she whispered, "but I need to get back to Korra and the others, we're going to head South first thing tomorrow."

She waited for him to respond. Then he blinked and blushed.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head slightly, "could you repeat that?"

Oh.

Oh, my.

He was seeing her in the light. He knew who she was now, and he was probably _really_ _seeing_ her for the first time. She smiled nervously, because she was actually really, really scared of this moment. That she wouldn't be what he was expecting. That she wasn't... _his_ type. He smirked back, a little crooked. And she couldn't help but touch that soft smile with her thumb.

"I said I need to get back to Air Temple Island," she whispered, transfixed by his mouth, "we're heading to the South Pole tomorrow morning."

He arched an eyebrow.

"And why in the _hell_ would you want to go there?" he asked with a disgusted sneer.

She laughed because she knew _this_ Tahno so much better. And strangely, that's how she knew it was really him looking at her.

She swallowed hard before answering because she wanted to touch this subject with him gently. She really wanted to undo the horrible thing her father had done to him. But she wasn't sure he would accept anything from her. She also wasn't sure if she possibly could help him, and that possibility was something she didn't want to face. She had to believe she could help fix this.

(Arrogant, arrogant.)

"We're going to see if Katara of the Southern Water Tribe can do anything for Korra and Lin Bei Fong," she forced the words out.

Tahno gave her a very, very level look.

"...I actually wanted to see if you wanted to come with us," she said, her confidence shaken by the intensity of his look.

He flatly refused and she prodded him a little until he told her that not only would he not go to the South Pole for personal reasons (not the ones she thought), but that the damage done

could not _be_ fixed.

By her or anyone.

And then he wouldn't bloody tell her how he knew and that annoyed her. But really, after the last three years, what right did she have to begrudge him his secrets? She couldn't help but sulk a little though.

And then he stared at her mouth. So she teased him a little, feeling heat stir through her the way it used to whenever he touched her. And he teased her back with a very _smug_ smirk. And she blushed and he grinned and held her hand. And Asami felt something flutter in her heart that she hadn't felt in quite some time.

Happiness.

She saw his eyes light up. It was not something she'd really seen up close since she still talked to him from his locker room doorway. (When she was still hidden under a hat.)

"Stay with me," he murmured in her ear. "I'll take you over in the morning."

Asami's heart quickened and she realized something very important: this was no longer a game between them. She'd been unravelled, and he knew who she was. He knew and he was still asking her to stay. She bit her lip uncertainly.

_Why?_ she couldn't help but wonder as she searched his face. Was this a grudge? Was this his persona? Was this some kind of angle?

Then he looked away, sensing her hesitation, and his face was hidden behind his bangs and the moonlight from above. He sighed. It was hardly a breath - so faint that she could barely pick it up. So faint that she would have to be _close_ to him to hear it.

And _she_ knew exactly what that sound meant.

And that...

that...

if _she_ knew exactly what that sound meant,

(really, she hadn't seen so much of his face in the dark either)

then maybe,

_maybe_,

_he_ likewise knew _her_ after all.

He started to move away but her heart screamed at her, and suddenly she kissed him. Just a breath of a kiss. A breath of a hope on her lips.

_Please,_ she pleaded inside,_ Please don't_...

His fingers went lightly along her neck and into her hair, like he was in a daze, and she knew what to do. She pulled out the combs and her hair was released and came uncoiled as though escaping the restraint she'd held it in over the last three years. And he gave such a sigh as he grasped it gently with both hands and pressed his face into it and smelling it deeply, that she almost cried again.

"I missed you," he said, his voice raw.

So raw.

She put her hands on the sides of his face and looked up at him. His face partially shadowed, but so familiar to her_ fingers_.

"I missed you too," she said pouring everything her heart had into her words.

And his eyes just...

So she just lunged into him,

hungry,

so hungry for him.

And she stayed, because right then, it was where she belonged.


End file.
